Out of the Fire
by s3ctumsempra
Summary: During the Battle of Hogwarts Hermione meets Draco and he intends to torture her. He didn't anticipate how hard it would be for him. When they meet again some five years later, Hermione tries to ignore Draco. But what if he doesn't want to be avoided?
1. Chapter 1

Hey okay so this is my Dramione fanfic and, don't worry, I know it's not perfect but hey ho.

Please read and review.

**Disclaimer; I did not (sadly) create the wonderful world of Harry Potter. All credit to JKR for the ideas of Harry Potter etc. **

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Hermione ducked as another spell came her way and tried to keep running. The Death Eaters were pursuing her and slowly catching up as she ran down the darkened tunnels of the dungeons. She _had_ to get to the Great Hall to find Harry and Ron. She had lost them when Voldemort's personal army first began to break the barriers set up by the Aurors and professors. She heard the Death Eaters shouting at her, cursing her. She knew if they caught her, or even hit her with an Unforgivable, she'd be dead in minutes.

"Mudblood bitch!" one of them shouted. Hermione realised it was Yaxley and ran faster.

She cast a Protego charm around herself, finally reaching the staircase that led to the ground floor. Tears cascaded down her face and were brushed away quickly. As she made her way up the stairs Hermione heard Yaxley and his companion right behind her.

She had run from Voldemort for almost half of her life and she was getting tired of it. Hermione was sick of running; running from Voldemort, running from Death Eaters, running from her friends, running from her family. She'd lied to everyone for the past seven years and she knew she couldn't take it much longer.

She reached the ground floor and dashed to the Great Hall but to her dismay she couldn't see Ron or Harry anywhere. Hermione was getting desperate now and she saw no one that she knew. That was until there came a cry from behind her.

"Hermione!" it was Harry. "Hermione, come on!"

She turned round to see Harry battered and bloody with Yaxley unconscious at his feet. She sped towards his outstretched arms and into his embrace.

"I've been looking for you for hours, Hermione, I was worried sick," he whispered into her hair.

A wave of guilt hit the witch. She had purposely left Harry and Ron to fend for themselves in the first hours of the battle, the brunette had needed space and time to think. Think what she was going to do. Think if she was actually going to fight. Think of who she was prepared to die for. When she had cleared her mind slightly, that was when Yaxley had begun chasing her.

She didn't want to hurt Harry or Ron in the slightest, but she couldn't bear to be around them anymore. She visibly winced when one of them told her how much they loved her or how they would not have made it past first year without her. She could not take it anymore. Hermione could not deal with the fact, in the war; one of them could have been killed within an instant, ripped from life and torn from her. She did not want to have her heart shredded so she began to distance herself; telling herself that she did not care for them. She had realised a long time ago that she needed to take care of herself before she saved anyone else's life. Hermione had come to realise that she was selfish and heartless - cold to the bone, void of all caring emotion. The small bushy-haired girl was no longer her; she left that behind years ago.

"Well, you've found me now," she said weakly.

Harry released his hold on Hermione and looked at her, his emerald green eyes meeting her chocolate brown ones. "I need to find Voldemort," he said suddenly, "I need to be the one to kill him. Ron's gone to find Ginny to make sure she leaves the castle; I want you to try and find him. You fight better when you're together."

He turned on his heel and darted through the entrance hall and through the giant doors leading into the front courtyard.

A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye. The witch knew that if Harry found Voldemort; there was a eighty-five per cent chance that The Boy Who Lived would be alive no longer. Hermione did not know if she was more scared about losing Harry or the whole wizarding world being brought down to its knees by The Dark Lord.

With a slightly defeated attitude Hermione set out to find Ron. Her wand was almost cracking under her vice-like grip but she did not seem to notice. As she walked through the corridors, she noticed that most of the Death Eaters had drawn back and the remaining few were fighting numerous Aurors at once. _Good_, she thought, _I hope they rot in Azkaban where they belong._

Flashbacks hit Hermione like a train as she made her way up to the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore's Army. Umbridge. The Inquisitorial Squad. Grawp. Firenze. Christmases with the Weasley family. Slughorn's party. She stopped in her tracks, feeling faint. Hermione knew that she'd sell her soul to the Devil for her life to be like it once was, before Voldemort became more indestructible.

She sunk down onto the floor; drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. For the first time in years Hermione began to weep. She wept for Harry, for Ron, for her parents, and for her own sad existence. She brought her wand up to her head and began to contemplate how effective a Killing Curse would be if she used it on herself. The brunette shook her head. Dropping her wand on the floor, she listened to it clatter. She could never leave Harry and Ron. They needed her. They needed her more than she needed them. She could never leave them to fend for themselves. Hermione knew she had saved them numerous times and she knew that she could not give up now, not when they need her the most.

She sat on the floor for a while, looking at her Muggle watch every minute or so. Wiping the stray tears from her face she decided to get up. But she never got the chance.

"Well, well," came a drawling voice from further down the corridor, "Looks like the Mudblood's on her own... Where's Pothead and Weasel, Granger?"

Hermione Granger turned her head slightly to see Malfoy leaning against the corridor wall with the same smirk that he had had since first year. He was alone and armed but Hermione was not scared. She would never be scared of Draco Malfoy.

She almost felt sorry for Malfoy. _Almost_. He had been brainwashed into a Pureblood mind-set before he could even talk. His father was a Death Eater and had ensured that his son had followed suit. Malfoy was blackmailed into the assassination of Dumbledore. He was only seventeen, just like the rest of their year, but there he was; in Voldemort's inner circle. Hermione could not help but despise him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she spat at him.

"Oh, I've missed you, Granger..." he said, walking towards her. "It's been no fun without you at the Manor. Do you remember when my Aunt Bellatrix tortured you? It was only a few days ago... I could have stopped that from happening, you know."

"Could you?" Hermione asked, sounding dry and bitter, "So, why didn't you?"

He crouched down next to her, brushing her wild hair out of her face and laughed as she flinched away from his touch, "I liked seeing you suffer."

Hermione spat in his face and attempted to get up and run away from her.

"Now, Granger, don't get all tetchy. I know you've missed me," she could hear the smirk in his voice, "I just thought I'd teach you a little lesson." Before she could even reach for her wand she heard Malfoy yell, "Stupefy!"

Hermione fell to the floor, and yelped as her head smacked against the stone cold ground; she immediately began to feel woozy. Before she passed out, she heard the blond wizard approach where she was lying and grabbed her feet, pulling her into the nearest empty classroom. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness and she knew she could not do anything about it.

Hermione regained consciousness half an hour later and found herself in a darkened classroom with Malfoy watching over her. His white blond hair looked silver in the dim light and his eyes were a dark grey. The wizard didn't move for a while and continued to watch her while she became aware of her surroundings.

"Finally woke, have you? It took you long enough," he sneered.

"No thanks to you," was her response.

He moved towards her noiselessly and crouched down next to her, his hair falling into his pale, pointed face. "I'm going to make you scream out in pain tonight, Granger. I will hurt you until you lose the will to live," he told her, his expression calm and complacent.

Hermione's heart sunk. She was defenceless and alone. There was no way that the witch could protect herself from Malfoy now. "Why?" she asked him, hearing the plea in her own words.

"You're the scum of the earth. Your blood is dirty," he said. "And you're something I can never have."

"What're you talking about, Malfoy? You're not making any sense."

"Oh, but I am," he replied. "You're a smart girl, Mudblood, haven't you worked any of this out yet?"

Hermione shook her head.

Malfoy smiled at her, "You're the cleverest student in our year and the most attractive woman I've ever seen. I want you. I've thought that since first year, but father would disown me if I ever said anything of my fondness towards you. So, I turned that attraction into hatred. You're friends with Pothead and Weasel; that made it much easier for me to dislike you."

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy the renowned Death Eater and Muggleborn hater, was proclaiming his attraction for her. But - "That doesn't explain why you want to torture me."

He brushed his hair out of his face and looked at her, neither of them breaking the eye contact. "I want to torture you because all of this is your fault. If you'd have been a Pureblood none of this would be happening. This is entirely your fault. I could have loved you if your blood had been pure but you just had to ruin it!" He jammed his wand into the side of her neck, pressing the tip violently onto her skin.

Hermione gave a huge gasp, shocked at Malfoy's force and anger. Her head was spinning. Draco Malfoy had just proclaimed that he could have loved her if it were not for her blood status. Her life suddenly flashed before her; Malfoy kissing her, marrying her, having children with her... She shook her head, not responding to him. No, she could never think of Malfoy in that way. It was completely out of the question, and here he was; deranged and about to torture her.

"Crucio," he whispered in her ear.

The pain was unbearable for Hermione and she began to scream and writhe, begging Malfoy to stop. He continued to hold the curse over her, smirking slightly as he did. She continued to twist and shout on the floor, crying and clutching at her head, waiting for the pain to stop. After what felt like years, Malfoy released the curse and dropped down next to her. His smirk had been replaced with a look of horror.

"What have I just done?" he said hoarsely, looking at Hermione with wide eyes. He reached forward towards her, his hand shaking.

"Get away from me," she said, horror-stricken. "Just get the hell away from me."

Malfoy curled up in a ball, still shaking. He began to cry and rock himself back and forth. He seemed to be whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," repeatedly.

Hermione stared at him, cradling her body to give herself some comfort, "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed at him.

He stopped rocking for a second and looked up at the bushy-haired girl. His silvery grey eyes were glistening with tears. "I-I don't know... I'm so sorry, I-I'm s-s-sorry!" he sobbed, choking slightly.

Hermione looked at the helpless Slytherin on the floor, wondering whether to make a run for it or to comfort him and help him. He had curled back into a ball and had, once again, begun to rock back and forth. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, drawing away from where she was stood. Malfoy turned his face away from her, hiding his tears. Hermione tried to put her hand on his shoulder again and, like the last time, he flinched. But instead of moving away from her, he stayed where he was and allowed Hermione to keep her hand on his shoulder.

When she spoke to him, her voice was significantly softer than it had previously been, "What on earth did you hurt me for? I haven't done anything wrong."

Malfoy shook violently as he cried more, "You have to forgive me, Granger. You have to. The Dark Lord wanted me to kill you, he used Legilimens on me. He knew... He knew how I felt about you. This is how he thought I could completely lose any affection for you, to prove my strength and devotion to him. He thought that if I tortured you enough that I'd become immune to feeling anything," he spat bitterly.

"So why can't you do it?" Hermione asked.

He turned his head so he as now facing her, his eyes still shining with the tears they had shed. "Because I am not a Death Eater. I don't want to be part of their sick group. I'm stronger- no... I'm better than that," he said.

Hermione was lost for words. She had always thought that Malfoy had entirely supported what Lord Voldemort had preached and practiced but here he was telling her that he agreed with none of it. His Dark Mark was slightly visible through the crisp white shirt that he was wearing and Hermione could see it twisting itself around Malfoy's forearm. She realised that her hand was still on his shoulder and removed it quickly. Before she could consider her choices, she hugged him, squeezing his torso tightly, as if she wished to squash every single horrible thing Malfoy had ever said to her out of his body. He clasped on to her arms, refusing to let go.

"Forgive me, Granger, for anything I've ever said to you while we were at Hogwarts," he pleaded, "Forgive me for what I just did, too. I want you to forgive me for everything I've ever done wrong in my life."

Hermione looked at him and shook her head, "I can't forgive you. Not yet. You've done nothing to prove that you're genuinely sorry."

Malfoy's shoulders dropped slightly and he gave a large sigh.

"Prove yourself. Fight in the battle. On our side. The right side."

He gave a hollow laugh. "Like anyone on your side would want me to fight alongside them," he said.

"They'd probably prefer that to you trying to kill them," Hermione shrugged, pulling away from him and getting up, still shaking from the Cruciatus curse he had put on her.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked as he realised the witch was heading towards the door on the opposite side of the unused, dark classroom.

"I'm going back to the battle," she said, plainly. "When you've sorted yourself out, you should, too. Fight for the right side, Malfoy."

He gave her a weak smile, "I will do, even if it costs me my life." Hermione opened the oak door and made her way out of the room. "Thanks, Granger. You're still annoying as shit but thank you."

Hermione nodded at Malfoy awkwardly and left.

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Okay how was that? Any good? I'm not the best at this whole writing thing so please review so I can improve it!

Chlo


	2. Chapter 2

Hey okay so this is chapter two, oooooh.

Please, please, please read and review if you can, it'd be great.

**Disclaimer; Harry Potter is not mine.**

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Hermione strode into the cafe and a strong smell of coffee hit her almost immediately. Her bushy brown hair was matted and stuck to her face due to the rain outside. The brunette had forgotten to take an umbrella with her and she could not risk using a drying charm in a place so crowded with Muggles.

In the far corner of the establishment, Hermione could see Ginny talking on the phone with an expression that reflected the utmost anger. She strode over to her friend, dodging waiters and customers alike. The youngest Weasley looked around at Hermione and her face broke into a grin.

"Look, Ron, I don't care if you and Lavender need someone to look after Alec for a night to have some 'time alone'. Ask Parvati or mum or George, or Bill and Fleur, literally ask anyone but Harry and I," the redhead said, talking into the phone which was pressed against her ear. "Hermione's here now, anyway, so please go and bug someone else." She threw the phone carelessly onto the wooden table.

Hermione sat down on the chair opposite Ginny and called the nearest waiter over, ordering three espressos for herself and, knowing the usual order, a hot chocolate for her companion. "What was Ron calling you for?" she asked. Then as an afterthought, "And when did he learn to use a 'felly-tone'?"

Ginny snorted, "Yet again, the witless wonder I have the privilege to call my brother wants me to babysit his bratty child. Oh, and I had to teach him how to use a phone because I felt it's slightly less inconspicuous in a Muggle area than sending a Patronus roaming round the country every time I need to speak to him."

Hermione sighed. Although the pain of hearing about or seeing Ron and Lavender together had subsided substantially; it still hurt her. Hermione had fallen head-over-heels for Ron before the war but the feeling had not been reciprocated. After the battle had been won, she had found Ron and Lavender entwined with each other, refusing to stop kissing. Hermione had been near suicidal after her...encounter with Malfoy; losing Fred, Remus and Tonks; and then seeing the man she thought she loved kissing someone else.

No one saw Hermione for months after the war. Countless times her friends had tried to contact her but she had not responded once. Not until she was ready to.

When Hermione Granger finally came out of mourning she immediately launched herself into a career as a Healer where she began to work her way up to becoming Head Healer at St Mungo's. The witch slowly got her life back but she was constantly haunted of her time spent with Draco Malfoy in that abandoned classroom.

"I still haven't forgiven him for having that vile child with the whiniest woman in the wizarding word," Ginny continued. "Alec's a horrible boy, so spoilt and ugly."

Hermione laughed. After having met Alec Weasley on a number of occasions she completely agreed with Ginny's views. The three-year-old had inherited most of Lavender's looks but with Ron's long nose and his height. He looked most out of place when with his paternal extended family. Alec had also, unfortunately, inherited Lavender's personality and whined for hours at a time until he got what he wanted.

"Does Ronald not think that he and Lavender should probably look after their own child? It was their fault they had the baby antichrist; no one made them have a baby!" Hermione said, she could feel her anger rising as she spoke about Ron and his new family.

The redhead sighed, "You know my opinion on this, Hermione. You know that I think you're the one who should be with my brother and not that rancid woman who's now my sister-in-law." She shuddered as she thought of Lavender Weasley as a beloved member of her family.

Suddenly, Ginny gasped. Hermione looked at the wide-eyed girl who looked like a rabbit in the headlights and tried to follow her gaze. Then it was her turn to gasp. Draco Malfoy had just entered the cafe and had begun to scout around for a table.

"Oh god, oh god, do not let Malfoy see me!" Hermione whispered, putting her head in her hands and turning a deep shade of scarlet.

Ginny looked at her incredulously, "Don't be so horrible! Draco changed sides during the war and you know that. He's actually a friend of the Holyhead Harpies manager, he comes and talks to me quite frequently when I'm in training. I'm inviting him over."

Hermione tried to stop her friend, "No, Ginny please. No-"

"DRACO!" the Weasley girl yelled.

To Hermione's horror Malfoy's voice came from behind her, "Hey, Weaslette!" She thought her ears deceived her; the Slytherin who had once ridiculed Ginny at school was now greeting her like an old friend.

Hermione sunk further into the chair, begging to Merlin that Malfoy would somehow not see her. She heard his shoes against the hard floor and she knew he was too close for her to escape now. The bushy-haired witch had not seen the man since the night of the battle and she had intended to keep it that way for as long as she possibly could. Hermione had never told anyone about the incident and had often prayed that she would never have to speak of it ever again.

"Hey, Ginny," Malfoy's drawling voice got louder as he approached the table; Merlin had his voice still not changed? "Hey- Granger..?" his voice sounded uncertain and Hermione sensed that he was as shocked as she was that they had met again.

Hermione refused to look up at him. "Hello, Malfoy," she said meekly, fidgeting in her chair.

Ginny, who was seemingly unaware of the tension between her friend and the ex-Death Eater, got up, "Right, does anyone want another drink? You'll have to give me the money, like, because I'm not made of galleons."

Malfoy nodded, asked the red-haired witch to buy him a coffee and gave her more than enough Muggle money. It appeared he has still not quite grasped the Muggle world but Hermione was slightly impressed by him even sitting in a cafe that was not owned by Pureblood wizards, but she was not going to admit that to anyone but herself.

For a few seconds they sat in unbearable silence and Hermione still had not looked at Malfoy.

"Granger," he said his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes?" she asked, still refusing to look him in the eye, scared that he would try and torture her like he had done years before.

"I want to thank you," Malfoy paused. "I'm pretty sure you saved my life."

Hermione raised her head and looked up at him. "I saved your life?"

Malfoy nodded earnestly, "You don't understand, Granger, I owe my life to you. I'd either be in Azkaban or dead if it wasn't for you."

Hermione remained silent; unsure of what to say.

"And," he continued, "I have no idea how to thank you."

She tried to smile, fearing it was more of a grimace but Malfoy smiled back anyway. "Oh, no," she said, blushing slightly. "You don't need to thank me."

As they fell back into another uncomfortable silence, Ginny returned with two drinks; one for herself and one for Malfoy. Hermione sat back in her chair for a moment, watching Ginny and Malfoy discuss Quidditch and the Holyhead Harpies. When had Ginny become good friends with Malfoy and why had no one told her about it. Were Harry and Ron as close to him? George? Bill and Fleur? Suddenly very angry at the thought of everyone having Draco Malfoy as a friend without even informing her of the new Gryffindor-Slytherin truce, Hermione leapt out of the chair.

"I have to go," she said abruptly, shocking Ginny and Malfoy.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded in response and began to move towards the door. "Bye, then, Hermione!"

Hermione mentally noted that Malfoy had not said goodbye to her and set off down the streets of London for Diagon Alley. She passed market stalls smelling strongly of sausages and entrances to the underground bustling with people. She had groups of teenage boys in track suits whistling at her and old couples smiling warmly as she passed them.

She saw the dark door of the Leaky Cauldron and pushed it open with a great deal of force. Hermione entered the dank room that smelt strongly of ale and moved to the back of the room, greeting a few elderly witches and wizards who praised her on her performance in the battle on the way. Through the back door, the witch walked into the small courtyard where the bins were and drew her wand, pointing it at the wall. She began to tap the brick wall with what she remembered was the correct sequence with her wand.

The wall began to move and revealed the bright street of Diagon Alley. She smiled slightly, happy to see it after so many months of being too wrapped up with her work to visit. She made her way through the groups of magic-folk until she reached the brightly coloured shop that stood out the most on the busy street; Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

Both windows on either side of the bright purple door were crammed with Weasley Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, Portable Swamps and WonderWitch products and the shop was already filled with people.

She twisted and dodged children and adults alike as she tried to find George Weasley. His bright red hair stuck out as much as any of the other Weasleys. Hermione saw him smiling at a customer - a genuine smile. She knew that George had suffered more than most after the battle, losing Fred had been like losing half of himself and Hermione knew that he blamed myself for his twin brother's death.

After the war, Hermione was closer to George than almost anyone else and had bonded through their suffering and pain. She needed him now, needed to confide in him about the incident that happened so long ago with Malfoy.

"Hermione!" George shouted as he spotted her, he scooted round his customers and greeted her with a huge bear hug. George, although shorter that Ron, Bill and Charlie was still a considerable amount taller than Hermione and rested his chin on top of her head.

"Hey, George," she said as he let her go.

He took hold of her hand. "Come on, we'll go and have a brew upstairs in my flat, Lee can look after the shop for a while," he waved to Lee Jordan and led Hermione upstairs to his rather large flat.

She made her way to her usual spot on the sofa and immediately put her feet on the coffee table as she had done countless times before. George sat next to her and swung his legs up onto Hermione's lap.

"So, what's bothering you?" Hermione gave him a look. "Oh, come on, Hermione! You don't just turn up in the middle of the day unless there's something even a little bit wrong. Have you got boy trouble? Uncle George can help you if you do," he winked at her.

Hermione sighed. She began to tell George every detail of the encounter she had with Malfoy and he did not interrupt once. "...and that's what happened," she finished.

"That evil, evil little toe rag! I can't believe he tortured you, I just can't believe it," he spat. "I'd have a mind to go and punch him in the face right now if I didn't know that you'd persuaded him to fight for us. And he just sort of thanked you for saving him when you saw him today?"

Hermione nodded. "I just needed to tell someone," she said solemnly. She took her feet off the table, pushed George's legs off her lap and crawled up to his chest and laid there, listening to him breathing softly.

"I'm glad you told me, Hermione," he said, holding her and stroking her bushy hair.

George tilted Hermione's head up so that she was looking at him and she noticed that his expression was nothing like he looked usually.

"George, are you ok-" he silenced her by pressing his lips to hers.

Hermione's mind went blank and was focused only on George. She didn't care to stop him and wished only that he had kissed her years earlier.

When they pulled apart, George grinned at her. "How was that?" he asked, sounding slightly nervous.

"Well... It was alright, I suppose," Hermione replied coyly, before pulling him in to kiss him again.

"You do realise," George said, between kisses, "that I've fancied you since you were in fourth year, right?"

Hermione giggled, "No, I haven't. I was a little preoccupied with Viktor Krum that year," she said.

George pulled away again, holding her around the waist. "Oh, that's right. I remember that, now," he said. "I saw you practically every day of every month for five years while we were both at Hogwarts but you never noticed me unless I was selling Puking Pastilles to first years or making ageing potions with Fred."

"I'm sorry I never fancied you," Hermione laughed. Her head was spinning: Ron's older brother had liked her since she was in her fourth year and now, there she was, in his apartment, kissing him.

He grinned at her, "You're forgiven."

George pulled Hermione's leg over him and began to kiss her again, his hands running down her back.

"Do you think we should be doing this?" she asked, slightly concerned that they were destroying their friendship bit by bit.

"Not at all," George said before pulling her back towards him, "but then again, I don't care."

Suddenly, George stopped and lifted Hermione off him. He got up and took her hand, as he had done when they were in the shop. He pulled her up and led her to his bedroom...

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How was that? Any good? Let me know in your reviews!

Thanks, Chlo


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